


ONE SHOT BOOK! (TharnType Requests Open!)

by Erbyrose



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), บังเอิญรัก | Love by Chance (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: All chapters are fulfilled requests, Bottom!Tharn, Bottom!Type, Children, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Lactation, Married Tharntype, More tags to be added, Mpreg, TharnType, Top!Tharn, Top!Type, domestic!Type, one shot book, requests open
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erbyrose/pseuds/Erbyrose
Summary: Hi all! This is the one-shot book that everyone requested after I finished "Not By The Hour of The Moon." Requests are open, but please read the rules first! Other than that enjoy!
Relationships: Champ/Techno (Love By Chance), Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 35
Kudos: 106





	1. RULES FOR PROMPTS

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos please!

I know I said I would leave the poll open for seven days...but based on what y'all have been commenting, The one-shot book is far in the lead! I think so far in the lead that I think it's decided 😂

SO if y'all really really want a one-shot book than I am going to leave this poll open for seven days just to keep to my word! but if you have a one-shot request then you can start commenting on this page for the one-shot book! I have a few rules though!

Rules for the One-Shot book~~~~

1) I would greatly appreciate requests that are very detailed! Like if you want a specific moment to occur within the one-shot than do not be afraid to write it down! It gives me a little bit more insight into what y'all are thinking!

2) The one-shot must be THARNTYPE RELATED! (yes I have seen lots of BL's, but TharnType is the one i feel the most confident in understanding so for right now im limiting it to TharnType!)

3) You guys are free to request anything! However, I will say that Mpreg is usually what I focus on 😂😂

4) If there was ANYTHING that y'all wanted to see in "In the Ocean's Shallow" or "Not By The Hour of The Moon" that did not happen, I can make it into a one-shot for you!

5) I am comfortable with writing minor smut. But I will not write smut with no plot, sorry :/

6) I don't write switch either, haha I thought I could, but turns out it's so incredibly difficult to Bottom!Tharn (I tried to write one for the first prompt but it did not work out...it was terrible 😂😂 whoops.) 

OTHER THAN THAT ENJOY! I CAN NOT WAIT TO START FILLING OUT REQUESTS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!

LOVE YOU ALL!!!!


	2. Anything For A Third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Type and Tharn already have two beautiful little boys and they have always wanted a third. Yet Type is struggling and Tharn doesn't want to see Type struggle anymore...so he volunteers instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS SO DIFFICULT TO WRITE OMG IM NOT EVEN GONNA LIE, I COULDNT EVEN LIE IF I WANTED TOO... AFTER WRITING TWO WHOLE BOOKS OF TYPE HAVING THE BABIES IT WAS VERY STRANGE FOR ME TO WRITE IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND SO I AM SO SO SO SORRY TO THE PERSON THAT REQUEST THIS BECAUSE I DID A HORRIBLE JOB BUT I HOPE YOU CAN BE SORTA HAPPY!! 
> 
> I HOPE TO HAVE THE NEXT PROMPT FILLED BY THE END OF THE MONTH!!!
> 
> Prompt requested by @Le124

_**REQUEST------i have this plot in my head for almost a month now of a tharntype mpreg but with tharn being the one pregnant ( idk it could be bc of like in vitro fertilization and they choose tharn to be the one, or it could be bc tharn was more open to the thought of bottoming for type since he would treat him waaaaaaaaay better then what san probably did, or it could be like type was already pregnant for the first time now was tharn turn idk hahahahaha I'm just throwing options now) really I just wanna see how type would treat tharn and how would things be, how much type would change-------REQUEST** _

For almost 3 years now, Tharn and Type have wanted a third baby. Of course, they had been so happy with the two sons they already had, Sunan and Klahan. Both of their little boys were so full of life and energy that even though Type was always running after them, he missed having a baby snuggling against his back while he made dinner. Or waking up early in the morning to the sound of little coo’s. 

Granted Type did wake up early in the morning to the sound of the sheets rustling, five-year-old Klahan was going through the nightmare phase and Type constantly found his youngest son pressed against his chest every night around 3am. Tharn and Type had decided not to be forceful with Klahan during this time, all of their books and their close family had said that as soon as Klahan came into their bed, they had to put him back. If Tharn and Type didn't put him back in his own little red racecar bed, then Klahan would be sleeping in their bed every night till he was 18. Type had tried this one night, it ended with Klahan thrashing and screaming in his arms, then being passed into Tharn’s arms still clinging onto his neck and screaming. Both parents realized that this was probably more than just nightmares and therefore Klahan would stay with them when he came to stay in their bed. 

Type liked the idea of having three children, exactly two years apart in age, that way they would be close. Tharn and him had always agreed on three children, it was what they wanted. Getting pregnant was never a problem for Type, after the young couple agreed to start trying for children, Sunan seemed to be conceived within just a few months of their conversions. Then as soon as Sunan was just over a year, they tried and again Klahan seemed to be conceived within just weeks practically. Type loved being pregnant and was more than ready to have a third, but when they tried after Klahan’s first birthday...well, nothing. Type wasn’t too concerned at first, until after they had been trying for months and still nothing. Tharn’s mother did everything she could to try and tell Type that children can not be convinced when there is too much stress. Two children under the age of three would definitely do that to you. The young couple took a break soon after that, their last miracle would come when they were ready. 

However now that Klahan had just celebrated his fifth birthday, and now Type was just getting frustrated with himself and his body. Tharn was not oblivious to this, and seeing how stressed Type was making himself over this made him want to do anything to take away his guilt. Even if it meant carrying a baby himself, something that Type was completely opposed to, he didn't want to admit defeat that easily, no matter how much Tharn insisted. But as per usual Tharn’s persistence always seemed to have a domineering force over Type. Which led to their current situation. 

Tharn and Type had been successful, it actually had only taken one try and now Tharn was three months along. Going through all the motions that Type had gone through twice...The morning sickness, headaches, constant nausea. Yet Type had considered Tharn to be lucky, he was carrying more towards his back, meaning, in short, he never had to go up a drastic new jean size. He was still the same muscular thin he had always been. Type took on the same role for Tharn that Tharn took on for him both times, which really wasn't that much, Tharn being as self-sufficient his personality was, he usually did everything for himself. Except when he was bent over the toilet of course. 

Sunan was old enough at 7 years old to understand the new permanent visitor that would be coming in a few months, while Klahan took a little bit more convincing. Yet every time Tharn came home from work and walked in the door the first thing his youngest son would do would be to touch his belly, talking to his little sibling. Both Tharn and Type found this to be the favorite part of their day for the duration of Tharn’s term. It hadn't been too hard on Tharn and maybe a part of him had underestimated the idea of what it meant to carry a baby... until it was time for the baby to come out. That was a pain that Tharn had never prepared himself for. Type didn't want to laugh, while Tharn cursed walking back and forth their living to ease the pain. Type wanted to be as supportive as he could, yet he couldn't help but roll his eyes when Tharn swore he would never ever do this again. He couldn't even understand why Type loved it so much, because this was ridiculous, the endless waves of pain. Just when he thought it would go away it came back three times as worse. Both times when Type was in labor there was a time when he would mentally curse Tharn for doing this to him, he felt bad when not once during all of his pain his Tharn cursed him right back. From Tharn’s perspective, he had volunteered for this and therefore had no right to complain. 

He was glad he didn’t, because in the end when Tharn and Type both welcomed their last baby boy into their world, nothing mattered except their son. Nothing at all.


	3. The Strongest Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Types mother realizes that she does not want to live her life without knowing her grandson...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! 
> 
> Emotional warning for this chapter because oml I almost cried writing it 🤣🤣

**_————REQUEST———-A Not by the Hour request: a conversation between Type and his mom (I like her, although I'd really like to see her stand up to his donor a little more) on Kamons birthday. Or better yet, she calls, he can't hear the phone because of festivities but it answers anyway, she hears the background noise, Tharns family. and maybe the birthday song? And then she hangs up and yells at her stupid ass husband for being a stupid ass husband.—————REQUEST———_ **

Requested by @Sapphyrelight

Type would never admit that at one point in his young son’s life he thought he would not be able to celebrate his first birthday. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone but Tharn, because Tharn thought about it too. During that whole time that Kamon was in Lhong’s hold, Type stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and wanted to believe with all of his might that he would see his son again. But he didn’t, he didn't know what he was thinking, but it wasn’t anything good. Yet being where Type was right now with his husband and baby boy, Type didn’t feel like he was missing anything. He was surrounded by the family he made and the friends as well. He hadn’t even thought about the one person that wasn’t there, that should have been. Type had been so busy running around making sure there was enough food and drinks, that Kamon was comfortable and that not a thing was out of place, he didn't even look at the caller ID when his phone rang. His phone had been sitting on the kitchen counter and had rung in the midst of Type pouring more LAYS chips into a large bowl. 

Since his little boy was born, he had been forced to learn the art of multitasking. Both Tharn and Type considered themselves to be experts in multi tasking at this point. Type had practically sung around in a circle picked up his phone and placed it between his ear and shoulder all while holding the bowl of chips. 

“Hello?” Type said, Techno had been talking Type’s ear off all about how he had found the perfect orphanage to start looking to expand his family. Type was nodding his head towards Techno’s words, not to be dismissive in any way, he cared about Techno’s words, but at the same time he was doing other things.

“Type, Sweetheart? It’s mama…” Type had pulled his ear away from the phone at the sound of the baby monitor attached to the belt loop of his pants, Kamon’s cries from the nursery becoming the loudest thing in Type’s ear. The small monitor illuminated in red and orange, and Type looked towards Techno, shoving the bowl of chips into his arms, and slipping his phone into his back pocket completely forgetting his mother was on the line. 

“Techno, hold that thought, just let me go get him.” Type lightly jogged towards the nursery. Tharn and Type long decided that when company or anyone came over the apartment, that didn't mean Kamon’s schedule had to be interrupted. So on the day of the party Type had put Kamon down for a nap in the nursery. The one year old not used to waking up in a completely darkened room that was near silent, had woken up distressed and uncomfortable. Type opened the door to the nursery cooing in the direction of the crib where his son laid kicking his legs out and rubbing his eyes. The young mother was still completely unaware that his phone was still connected to the call. 

“Awh! What’s wrong my love… shh… it’s your birthday today remember! No more tears!” Type sighed bringing Kamon into his arms and over his shoulder patting his back. Kamon’s sobs didn’t last forever and as soon as he calmed down Type sighed happily, bringing him to the changing table. Kamon chewed on the handle of a hairbrush while Type changed his diaper and just before Kamon could fuss he was back in Types arms. The young mother had changed his son into a cute pair over grey overalls and white shirt. 

“Come on! Papa, Grandma and Uncle No are here just for you!” Type smiled kissing his son’s bed head. 

Hearing this through the phone Type’s mother nearly broke down just listening to her son talk away. Kamon brought his hand to his mouth to chew on his knuckles, which Type clicked his tongue at him, pulling his fingers away. 

“Nope...no sir.. I will get you a bottle soon.” Type hummed walking out of the nursery. 

Meanwhile, on the island of Type’s birth, his mother sat at the same dining room table where her son collapsed, only just a year ago. Her gold IPhone lay on the dark cherry wood table in front of her. Types mother could only listen painfully as her son sang the same lullabies that she did to him 24 years ago. She could practically see Type cradling Kamon in his arms, Kamon opening birthday presents or eating birthday cake. Type’s father was walking into the dining room at the same moment, a chorus of ‘awhs’ and ‘ohs’ broke out through the speaker. Type’s mother could only assume everyone who was at the party was holding her grandchild, and loving on him. She turned her head away from her husband that just sat down at the table completely unphased by what was happening. Type’s mother muted the phone as her eyes flared at her husband. 

“Do you hear this…Do you hear all of the people celebrating your first born grandson’s birthday!? Do you realize we are not there, all because of you!” Type’s mother nearly threw her phone at the older man across the table who just rolled his eyes. 

“He’s not my son, nor my grandson…” Type’s father clicked his tongue at his wife and walked away. Type’s mother felt fire ignite within her and she stood up, her chair kicking back. 

“He will always be my son! I will not stand here and let you throw away the bond I have with my son.” She screamed at her husband's body as it disappeared around the corner. Type’s mother felt as if she was drowning, she was so frustrated, but she knew at this point there was only one choice to make. With a shout of frustration, she grabbed her purse, hung up the phone and walked out of her house. Making her way to the dock, she took the last boat of the night to the mainland, hoping her son wouldn't slam the door in her face when she got there. 

The boat ride was long and arduous, Type’s mother had nearly forgotten how rough the ocean could get, it almost made her sick. Yet when they got to the mainland and her feet were on solid ground, the sickness disappeared. The sun was long hidden behind the horizon, the busy city that never slept, seemed to be almost too quiet. She didn't really care that she hadn't told her husband that she had left, she actually was assuming he wouldn't care either. The cost of taking a cab from the marina to Type’s apartment was enough to make her seasickness return, the cab driver not having any of it. He held his hand out like a demanding child, she just shoved an excessive amount of money into his hand and got out of the cab. Knowing full well that the cab driver owed her change. The cab drove away before she could be sensible enough to ask for the money back. 

\------

The day's events had been so exhausting for Type and out of all nights for Kamon to wake up and be fussy, he chose this one. Usually he always woke up around 9:00 wanting a bottle, as his bedtime was 7:30 on the dot, he would sleep through the night after the first wakeup. Just as always Kamon woke up at 9:00, Tharn and Type had just finished cleaning up the mess from the party, when Kamon sounded his alarm. Yet when he woke up crying it was different, he was louder and his cry was more high pitched. Type was actually surprised by his cry that he nearly dropped the plate that he was drying with a towel. Type speed walked towards the bassinet seeing his son completely red in the face. Taking his son into his arms, Type couldn’t even coo to try and calm him down because Kamon was just screaming over the top of Type’s voice. Tharn came over quickly to stand in front of Type looking down at his son in Type’s arms. 

“Is it a fever..?” Tharn said looking at his wife’s pinched expression. Types eyes furrowed together in confusion, what was going on…? He skillfully with one hand held his son close and with the other, rubbed Kamon’s stomach in the same way he did when his son was too small to hold any other way. 

“No… he’s not warm… I think maybe he had a nightmare…” Type’s voice was muffled as if he was too focused on trying to get him to calm down before thinking about anything else. 

“It’s alright keiyw… we’re here…come on baby…” Tharn whispered brushing his son’s head with the pad of his thumb. It took a while, but soon Type was able to sit on the couch with his legs crossed and Kamon close to his chest. The young mother had taken off his shirt to allow Kamon to press his head in the space over his heart. The sound of his steady heartbeat lulling Kamon into a calm state. Tharn was currently in the process of shaking a bottle for his son when both parents in the silent space of their apartment heard their door alarm sound. Someone was waiting for them? By now it was well after 10:00 and nobody should be at the apartment that didn’t live there. Type looked towards the door, not moving much more as to risk startling his calm son. 

“Who could that be?” Type said, instinctively held his son just a little bit tighter, even though he really had nothing to worry about since Lhong was...dead. After the ordeal he went through, now any unexpected events made his stomach twist and his muscles tense. He always seemed to be in some sort of a protective mode since that day. Not to mention now with a new life growing inside him… 

“It’s probably Techno, he is always forgetting stuff here remember? Man has an entire house for him and just one other person. Yet he leaves so much stuff here, you would think he lives here too!” Tharn breathed, turning the bottle gently from side to side as he walked towards the door. 

“...it’s okay Type, just a second.” Tharn smiled at his wife who kept his gaze focused on the long entry hallway where their apartment door sat at the end on the right side. Types hand reaching to the side to pull Kamon’s elephant blanket around his son. 

Reaching the door Tharn looked at the security screen next to the door to see a person who he never thought he would see… 

The silence from the entrance way was unsettling to Type, he started to stand up walking towards their front door, still holding Kamon close. The drapé of the elephant blanket covered the majority of Types chest and stomach, only Kamon’s feet poked out of the end. 

“Tharn…? Who is it?” Type called waiting for a response but heard nothing, only watching as his husband appeared silently smiling as he stepped to the side standing closer to the wall. Type was confused furrowing his brows together, yet relaxing almost instantly as his mother stepped into their hallway. When she saw her son, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes trembling with tears. 

“Máeh?” Type barely noticed the sound of his natural Phagan accent clutching his words. His accent had nearly dissolved completely after so many years of living in Bangkok, but in the sight of his mother, it was like nothing had changed. Type would admit in the months it had been since he had seen his mother, she had aged visibly…she looked thinner and her eyes sunken in. It was as if not seeing her son was slowly killing her. Type should understand that better than anyone…

His mother stood there still, unmoving because she felt as if she didn’t have the right to enter the large apartment anymore than she already had. Staring at her son his eyes wide with shock and arms trembling slightly, she held her breath. 

“W-What are you doing here…má?” Type’s voice shook slightly. 

“Type… I could never forget my grandson’s first birthday...I tried to call you before and I realized something as I heard the party guests chattering about through the phone…” His mother took a shaking step toward her son with every pause of her words. 

“Only I can change the fact that I haven’t been by your side all this time…I can not speak for your father… but I couldn’t sit idly by and not be a part of your family…” Her words sounded as if they were teetering off of the edge of a cliff, each word carefully making its way into the tense air, testing the waters of reception. 

“Máeh…I…” Type began. 

“Thiwat… I’m sorry… I told you once that you would be a good mother, but I can see now that because of my absence I stand corrected…You are a great mother… I can see you don’t need me anymore…” Her breath trembled. 

“I want you here!” Type’s own words seemed to swallow any other statements that his mother had queued to say. Type looked down at Kamon who was brightly wide eyed, to his husband who was gently smiling and walking towards him. Then finally to his mother, whose saucer-like eyes, and Cupid’s bow smile were revealed by her hand finally moving away from her face. Type was so focused he could only continue his words after Tharn wrapped his arms tightly around his thin waist. Even the new baby still growing inside Type made his stomach feel like it was a pair fluttering butterfly wings. 

“...Máeh.. I want you here..I want Kamon to know where the strength of his family comes from. I want him to know the woman who gave me all of hers just as I gave him all of mine…I want the same for his little sibling too...” Type stood strong and unwavering, watching as his mother’s heart skipped a beat at his announcement of a new baby.

Type’s mother had done it... and she swore as she walked towards her son, that she would never betray him again. Without another word, the space between both mother and son was finally closed. Type’s mother wrapped her arms tightly around her much taller son, Kamon in between them. Tharn silently excusing himself to go make a fresh bottle now that the one he’d been holding had gone cold. 

“I love you Máeh…so much…” Type whispered, freeing one hand from his grip on his son and gently wrapping it around his mother’s back. 

“I love you too my son…” Her words muffled as her face was pressed tightly against Type’s shoulder


	4. Lifelong Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tharn has always dreamed of going on world tour, but not without Type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PREPARE YOUR TISSUES OML!!!!!! 
> 
> Warning: Gun Violence  
> Character Death  
> SADNESS

**_REQUEST------Tharns band has made it big and they're onstage and Type is backstage adoring Tharn and pretending not to be proud as hell. If you wanna add a twist: type sees the glint of a gun from the crowd aimed at Tharn and reacts faster than anyone else, and then the gun goes off.------REQUEST_**

When you’re 13 years old and you tell your parents you want to be a rockstar when you grow up, the reaction is always less than pleasant. Of course parents will always be concerned if you are going to have enough money, or be able to live a healthy life when you are touring concently. If you can even make it that far. Most parents stop the conversation somewhere around “you’ll never make it past bars and nightclubs.” They figure that’s all they need to say to their rockstar wannabe children, to get them to change their career path. Yet Tharna Kirigun was different, when he was 13 he approached his mild mannered parents proclaiming he was going to be a rockstar one day and his parents could only sigh, laughing at their young son’s antics. They never told him no, nor did they ever tell their son he would fail at achieving his dreams. Such a simple response on his parents' part allowed for Tharn to proceed with his dreams happily, not really being concerned with failing, because if he failed, at least he failed doing something he loved. 

He did fail sometimes, and his band did have it’s struggles, losing the lead singer twice in less than 5 years was more than enough struggle at once for Tharn to handle. Tharn never lost his passion or determination, it wasn’t because he wanted to prove everyone wrong, because there was no one to prove wrong. It wasn’t because he had parents that always told him he would fail, because he never did have those parents. It was because at the end of every audition, gig, and late night music score, Tharn’s muse would be there to pick up the pieces. Hold him tightly, pull the horribly scribbled music sheets out from his sleeping hands, entwine their fingers with his aching ones and love only Tharn. For all the little things Type had done and still did since they moved in together in college, Tharn felt guilty as if Type carried the weight of his career struggles. He never wanted Type to suffer because he couldn't provide or for that matter, now didn’t want his family to suffer for his struggles. 

After being married for nearly 5 years, it was more than just the two of them, their son had grown into the most energetic two year old that even Type, with all of his athletic training, had a hard time keeping up with him. Kasem was born smiling, a fact that Tharn and Type will never forget, within seconds of his cries echoing into the small space of their apartment, their son smiled brightly. The nurse that had delivered Kasem in their apartment had never seen a baby born smiling before. The young couple that night decided it was only fitting that their son’s name meant, “the feeling of pure happiness.” 

Watching his son take his first steps, speak his first words and kick his first soccer ball, was enough for Tharn to consider leaving that which he thought he loved the most. Music was how he communicated for the longest time, whether that was putting on his headphones and shutting the world away. Or writing what he felt could never be expressed in words no matter how hard he tried, a love for his wife, and now little son. Type and Kasem consumed Tharn’s world more than music, the assurity of their wellbeing was worth giving up music. Just as Tharn was packing away his guitar and drumsticks for what seemed to be the last time, fate had a different plan…

Type had been standing next to Tharn when his phone rang, with Kasem on his hip. The two-year-old finally ran out all his energy backstage when his father was singing. The little boy’s thick head of black hair brushing over his closed eyes while he sucked his thumb. Before Kasem was born, Type had rarely missed one of Tharn’s concerts, even if they were in bars and nightclubs, Type was always there. After Kasem was born, there were many nights early in Kasem’s life that Tharn would come home to find both his wife and son already sleeping. It was only now occasionally that Type would attend concerts with Kasem, usually only the ones that took place in Jeed’s bar. The couple’s close friends loved when Kasem sat on top of the bar counters drinking ginger ale to his heart’s content. Type was always careful though, Kasem was never far from his line of sight and when Tharn took the stage, he made sure Kasem wore his oversized red headphones and sat in his lap watching Tharn. It was important to Type that Kasem watched Tharn play. He wanted his son to see his father’s passionate smile and learn from it. 

Type had made a gentle gesture, signaling to Tharn he was going to put Kasem in the car while the phone rang, Tharn smiling in return as he answered his phone. The last thing Tharn had expected was for the call to be from one of the many record labels he’d sent demos on the receiving end. With that being his last expectation, you could imagine the overwhelming feeling in his heart when that was indeed the case. The drive home that night being one of the best Tharn had driven, maybe he wasn’t going to have to put away his drumsticks after all?

That’s how the little family of three got to where they were now. Tharn and his band had become pretty successful and were in the middle of an amazing tour. All those years of fighting with himself even when he had an amazing support system, were paying off. Tharn couldn't smile any brighter than when he was on stage, playing for one or 1 million. Type had been hesitant when Tharn’s manager P’Boss had invited him and Kasem to come on tour. P’Boss having been a manager for many bands, knew what tour’s did to marriages, he’d witness them fall apart right in front of his eyes so many times, it was like old news. Type remembered pacing back and forth while he and Tharn discussed their options. It wasn’t like there were going to be bottle warmers or bassinets in the hotels, and if they were Type would not feel comfortable letting Kasem anywhere near them. But Type didn’t want Kasem to be separated from his father for 6 months either, talking through facetime everyday. With that in mind, Type went on tour. 

Life on tour, was a lot more comfortable than what Type had imagined, he quickly learned to enjoy standing in the wings of the stage with Kasem watching Tharn play, Tharn smiling, or singing or throwing water into the crowd distracted Type from all of the wild behaviors his fans would erupt into as soon as the band took the stage. Type didn't pretend that the thousands of fans recording Tharn or screaming his name like their last words bothered him. He had explicitly told Tharn and P’Boss that he did not want their family to be exploited in any way, which meant taking videos on stage was okay, but Kasem would never go on stage nor Type. 

One tabloid scandal was enough, as far as the world was currently concerned they knew that Tharn was married to a man and had a son. Type and Kasem had been leaving Tharn’s recording studio after having dinner there while Tharn had been working late and Type had figured that at 10:00 at night, no photographer would be trying to take their pictures. Well he had been quickly corrected, it seemed within seconds of leaving the studio bright white flashes surrounded Type, he woke up horrified the next morning to see his face and half of his son’s face plastered on the news. That for Type was more than enough. 

Kasem was happy to dance in the wings of the stage every night though. With the promise that after all the fans had left the stadium, he could run into his papa’s arms. Tharn never broke his promise when it came to that. It didn't matter how sweaty, tired or achy Tharn felt, he was re-energized instantly watching as Type gently nodded his head toward Kasem who would on his short chubby legs run into Tharn’s arms. Kasem was undoubtedly a daddy’s boy. This is what Tharn had spent his life fighting for, his wife, son and his music. He had figured that he had long paid the price of fame, however, fate was cruel. Too cruel. 

It was the last night of the tour, just as they had begun in Bangkok, that is where they would finish. P’Boss had promised the chart topping band that they would play on the biggest stage in Bangkok one day and now was the time. A completely sold out stage of nearly 50,000 adoring fans surrounded the band that night, Type could have imagined what 50,000 people looked like in his mind, but seeing it in real life was nothing like he had thought. Type had given Tharn the tightest hug he had in a while that night kissing his smiling lips as he watched him cross onto the stage. 

It was simple, Tharn’s band played all 20 songs from their new album and for the last song, Tharn took center stage with his bandmates to play a gentle acoustic song. More specifically, Type’s song, the song that Tharn wrote specifically for Type. Tharn and all his band mates sat on tall barstools, with Tharn closest to the wings of the stage. Sometimes Tharn would look over from his guitar to Type making small gestures, a wink or a bright smile or a funny face at Kasem. Type loved seeing all the fans hold up their cell phone flashlights or light sticks singing along to the words. 

Kasem had fallen asleep on Type’s shoulder as the young man swayed back and forth with the music, even though the stadium was filled with 50000 people, it felt quiet during the last song, quiet enough that P’Boss could look at Type and have a conversation in a normal voice.

“This is just the beginning. I have been working on planning a world tour. Can you imagine the guys in MetLife? Or The Staples Center? I hope you can because it’s the next thing.” P’Boss’s eyes were practically sparkling at the thought of end taking the guys across the world. 

“You really think they have that kind of potential?” Type questioned his eyebrow raising high onto his forehead. 

“Ai’Type! Look at that crowd! The world is waiting for these guys I promise you!” Type gazed up towards Tharn seeing him smile out at the crowd and then turn to Type smiling brightly. Kasem buried his head into Type’s shoulder, but even in that Tharn loved what he saw.Seeing Type hold their son as he did was a sight that could last forever, all he wanted to do was look at Type. As romantic as that moment was, Type wasn’t staring at Tharn, no, he was staring behind Tharn at the glimmer of something that was surely not a phone light. However all the phone lights around it seemed to illuminate the object clearly. 

Type’s eyes widened at the sight of what was threatening his husband on stage. The sound of P’Boss’s voice tunneled in Type’s ears, something about how they should consider a permanent residence in America, how it would make the tour life so much easier to have a house of their own. But Type could barely hear him, he knew what that weapon was in the crowd and before he could even tell P’boss what was going on, he shoved Kasem into his arms. P’Boss having played with Kasem many times, knew how to hold him but that did not stop the young man from stepping back, shocked at Type’s actions. He couldn’t even question his actions because Type had dashed out onto the stage.

“Tharn!” Type grabbed Tharn’s shoulders and pulled him into what seemed to be a hug. 

The crowd’s aww however, soon turned into screams as the echoing boom of gunfire filled the stadium. 

In actuality Type has grabbed Tharn hugging him close and twisting his body around so that Tharn was turned into Type’s body, Tharn’s acoustic guitar being thrown to the side nearly rolling off the stage. The rockstar was so taken aback by every sense coming alive within him that he hadn’t even realized it was his wife on top of him. The thousands of fans making a hurried escape through all exits. Tharn’s eyes darted around the stadium wildly, distantly he could hear P’Boss yelling his name. There was a metallic smell that hung in the air, was it from the gun residue? Or the blood pooling on the stage floor…?

However it was in fact the painful groan that escaped Type’s mouth that Tharn heard over everything else that was going on. He brought his hand up to Type’s back, pulling it back to be covered in blood. Tharn’s blood ran cold, his ears were ringing and at this point barely felt oxygen fill his lungs. As quick as his mind could process that his wife had been shot, he rolled them over, cradling Type’s upper body in his arms. 

“T-Type! Oh my god...B-Baby...Type! Stay with me Type!” Tharn gazed down at Type whose eyes seemed dulled and unfocused. Tharn could tell Type was trying to focus on anything but the pain, it was the same thing he did when Kasem was born. Type fought for every breath, why couldn’t he breathe? Why was it so hard?! He had been doing it all his life, he knew how to do it! The young mother felt the blood draining out of his face and his hands shaking as they tried to find Tharn’s. 

“T-Tha..Tharn… y-you..?” Type swallowed the overwhelming pain and screw his eyes shut, trying to focus on his words. 

“N-No i’m okay…Type...why would you do this?!” Tharn’s eyes pooled tears, just as P’Boss slid to his knees next to Type, he was on the phone speaking to the emergency operator. Kasem now wide awake and alert in his other arm. 

“Y-You…More than me… Kasem…more than me…” Tharn knew that Type was always protective of him, but he never knew it was to the extent of taking a bullet for him. He couldn’t live without Type, no matter if Type thought that Tharn was worth more than him or Kasem was worth more than him. 

“Too late...t-too late….I-I l-love you…” Type’s pupils were wide and shaking, he choked on his gasping air, coughing, a stream of blood streaming from the corner of his mouth. 

“K-Kasem… T-Take C-Care…” 

“N-No T-Type, stay with me, right here…” Tharn said moving his hand to cradle Type’s cheek, still keeping his other arm underneath Type to support his body. Tharn wanted to keep Type’s eyes focused, but they fought to look at Kasem. When they found the little 2 year old’s face, that seemed confused and distant, Type tried his best to smile. 

“Momma, loves you… so much…” Type breathed, seeing his son bring his fingers to his mouth and chew on them, his innocence shining through as he laid on P’Boss’s shoulder.

“Type...I don’t want to live without you...I can’t…” Tharn spoke clearly bringing Type’s gaze back to his own. For the first time, Type’s face became relaxed…it seemed as if he wasn’t in any pain…he even tried to smile. 

“You can.. and you will… Tharn… you have loved me in ways, I never thought I could feel…We will be together soon Tharn… I promise…” Type gasped as he finished his sentence, gripping tightly onto Tharn’s muscular forearm… his eyes wide. Tharn held his body close, leaning down to kiss Type’s bloodied lips, Tharn could only feel Type reciprocate the kiss for milliseconds before the grip on Tharn’s forearm weakened and fell, his arm hitting the floor of the stage with a resonating thud. 

Tharn sobbed, as he touched his forehead to Type, the deadweight of his body threading to fall out of his hold. Tharn could feel the cheeks of his wife growing colder by the second. 

“No...Type...please…” Tharn whispered. The young superstar, leaned back staring down at his wife’s body in shock. Type was getting cold, his eyes were closed and his body well...limp. The color was draining from his face, Tharn shaking him gently. 

“Type...sweetheart...please, i’m begging you...wake up. Wake up...and I will take you home…” Tharn pleaded. 

But Type was gone.


	5. The Truth Unfolded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a scare, Tharn and Type are forced to tell Kamon the horrifying events of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOO MY LOVES! 
> 
> I'm back! This prompt is an official continuation of Not By the Hour! I loved writing this even though it took me forever, I was faced the with challenge now developing our sweet Kamon's personality and I'm pretty happy with the outcome! I don't know guys...This prompt has me thinking of maybeeeee a third book...? hehehe 😈😈😈 we shall see!!! 
> 
> Im also gonna put emotional warning, because unfortunately Type lets his frustration get the best of him. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Request for @taetaewl

**_REQUEST--------Kamon is a teenager, or around 10-13 years old and he has always been on time when getting back home from school since his mama always worry and tell him to get home in time. But one time he decide that he wants to go out with friends and forget to call Type. Type gets flashback to the kidnapping and has panic attack and when Kamon is finally back home, Type gets angry and yell at him without thinking but later apologize. But he then gets anxious to let Kamon go back to school, he acts more and more nervous. Tharn steps in and tell Kamon what happened as a child. And Type need professional help to deal with the pain and fear that he has been dealing unconsciously with for 10-13 years.--------REQUEST_ **

20:00. Type could practically feel the ticking of the clock rattling his bones with every passing second that he sat at his dining room table, his phone clutched in his hand. Type remembers saying one day long ago that he would do anything and everything for his children. The consequences of his words were unknown at the time and now in this moment, he knew what those consequences were. Trusting the fact that your ten-year-old child could go to his after school activities, the grocery store and come straight home. Type was wrong, oh so wrong, because here he was ready to call Tanawat, San, or Tum, worried out of his brains that someone had taken his first born. It had already happened once, could it happen again? Even when the most likely culprit had been killed? What if Lhong knew others…? What if he truly intended to follow the Kirigun’s for the rest of their lives? Just thinking about it, made Type’s chest tighten uncomfortably. 

“Type?” The bell-like gentle voice of Tharn invaded the tense air that only Type was creating. Tharn stood swaying back and forth in the living room with the young couple’s third son on his waist. The two-year-old sucking his thumb with his other arm rubbing at his eyes occasionally. Type had already put their second eldest, a boy named Earth down for the night, but the couple's surprise youngest, Niran, never ever went to sleep without a fight. Although the most gentle child probably to exist on the planet, Niran could be stubborn when he wanted to be that was for certain. 

Tharn could see Type’s face framed with worry, and knew that it was because Kamon wasn’t home yet. 

“Type...He will be home any second, I’m sure.” Tharn spoke gently, as he rubbed Niran’s back, the little boy finally closing his green eyes. Stepping with light toes over to the crib that was at the foot of the couple’s bed. In a last attempt to stay in his father’s hold, Niran held onto Tharn’s shirt but released it as soon as his head touched the mattress. Niran’s curly wispy hair fell in his eyes, and his hands fell above his head as he drifted further into sleep, making Tharn smile. The father took a few seconds to brush the hair from around his son’s face as he leaned over his crib. 

When Niran was born, Type and Tharn were well expecting him to look exactly like his older brothers; straight hair, black eyes, and skinny. In the hours after Niran’s birth, when all the midwives had left, Type and Tharn were just laying in their bed. When looking at their littlest surprise they could see how his hair was indeed jet black, but curly, and his eyes were shaped like Type’s but green! Niran was the heaviest baby out of the three, for sure, his cheeks were round and plump. By the time he would turn two, he would thin out, and Type would miss Niran’s baby cheeks. When Tharn’s family came to meet the new baby, Tharn’s father pointed out that his father had curly hair and green eyes. After hearing this, Tharn suggested the name Niran meaning eternal. The little boy would never lose his great grandfather’s attributes. 

“How could you say something like that, after what we went through.” Type hushed voice cut through the sweet moment between Tharn and Niran. Type’s voice was audibly shaking, causing a chill to run down the back of Tharn’s ear. Standing up straight and moving back towards Type, Tharn could see that with every passing second he became more distressed. 

“That’s it, I’m calling Tanawat.” Type hissed standing up from the chair in which he sat. His phone in a grip so tight, Type’s fingers were pale white. Tharn felt a pull to wrap Type in his arms, knowing that breaking down like this was not in Type’s nature. Type was the most sensible out of the two of them, and yet motherhood made him so much more sensitive, causing Tharn to become the more sensible one now. 

Maybe the sensible thing would be to have given Kamon a cell phone on his tenth birthday...

Type was cursing himself under his breath as his fingers shook trying to unlock his phone, with no success. The younger stood in front of the wall of windows, looking down at the street to see if he could see any sign of his son and his bright red backpack. The streets outside their Bangkok apartment were illuminated brightly and the sun had finally hidden under the horizon. Type was very nearly ready to begin chewing on his nails. Where was his son? Finally the subtle click of his phone unlocking brought Tharn to attention. 

The husband made his way behind Type on the slightest of footsteps, bringing his arms up to wrap them around his shoulders. Only then could Tharn truly absorb how much Type’s shoulders were shuttering. Like a pillar of stone in an earthquake, the moment the warmth of Tharn’s arms enveloped his wife, the latter broke. Type’s head falling back against Tharn’s shoulder, his grip weakening allowing Tharn to pull the phone from his hand and throw it into the couch. Type fought back a choking sob and allowed his husband to hold him, finding it comforting. Tharn knew where this was coming from and he wouldn't pretend that he wasn't thinking it as well. Yet for his wife it was the same way as it was 10 years ago. When their son was ripped away from him in the blink of an eye. With his fingers wrapping around Type’s forearms bringing them to rest at his sides, Tharn caught the weight of his wife as he weakened in his emotion. 

“Lhong is gone, Type...because Lhong is dead I know our son will come home.” Type felt the flow of oxygen in his throat catch, resulting in the smallest lapse of breath. Type had to cover his mouth to prevent any sound escaping, even though his shoulders were shuttering severely. He could feel the burn of the tears poking at the corner of his eyes like fire. The way Tharn knew exactly what he was thinking almost scared him but at the same time was so reassuring. 

That’s the way the couple stayed wrapped in each other's embrace, Type doing everything he could to relax. When being held like this Type could drown out every sound, feeling and anxiety he had. The way they stood together now brought Type back to Tanawat’s office ten years ago, when the agony of self guilt for his son’s kidnapping was tearing him apart. It was the uncertainty that was killing him for sure. 

“We’re safe Type…” Tharn whispered against the soft skin of Type’s neck. The air around the couple although thick and heavy was silent, only Tharn’s quiet shushing noises filled the space. The younger man so lost in the trance of his husband that he didn't even hear the opening of the apartment door. The small patter of feet against the tile and the subsequent ‘thud’ of a backpack dropping to the tile floor. 

“Mom..?” The small voice that broke the silence of the couple, was penetrating and intrusive on their intimate moment. Fully expecting to turn around and see Earth to be the owner of the small voice, Tharn eyes widened at the sight of his eldest son standing in a puddle of rainwater. Kamon looked like he was swimming in the fabric of his grey raincoat and slowly took down his hood, his face written with confusion at the sight of his parents wrapped in each other's embrace. The little boy became even more concerned when he met his mother’s red, puffy eyes. Kamon had quite nearly never seen his mother cry, if anything he had probably heard it before, when he was supposed to be sleeping, but never seen it. 

There was an overwhelming amount of relief in Type’s heart when he met his eldest’s eyes...more specifically, Tharn’s eyes. Kamon definitely had Tharn’s eyes. As any mother would, Type felt himself breaking out of Tharn’s hold and rushing to kneel before his son, taking him into his arms. Type brought one of his hands up to cup the side of Kamon’s head and finally he felt the tears spilling down his face. Usually Type would become frustrated at the fact that Kamon’s raincoat was making a pool of water on the floor. But in this moment with his knees becoming soaking wet at the feet of his son, Type couldn't focus on anything else but the little boy. Tharn simply stood and watched the scene. 

“W-Where...were you…?” Type’s voice shook in muffled whispers. In the seconds of silence between his question and Kamon trying to process an answer, Type felt frustration amassing in his chest, he pulled away from his eldest son and put both hands on his shoulders, finding his eyes and not blinking. He may or may not have taken on a tone that was less than motherly with his ten-year-old as his fury blinded his logic. Type had mastered being stern with his children if they were bad or disobeyed either him or Tharn. As a mother he was a firm believer in the ‘naughty corner’ as a form of discipline, and yet Type knew that no timeout however long was going to make Kamon understand the worry in Type’s chest. Maybe that was Tharn and Type’s fault...they had made the decision long ago never to tell Kamon about his kidnapping. The couple wanted to raise their son and his siblings as normally as their own parents defined their childhoods. They managed to be very successful, until this day. 

“Kamon Eric Kirigun! Answer me! Where were you?!” A wide eyed Type, shook his son’s shoulders. Kamon’s eyes widened towards his mother, his small voice trembling, knowing his mother never got mad like this. 

“I saw Pensri when I went to the grocery store...We went to the park to play, I left as soon as I saw the sun setting! I didn't know the sun said goodnight so quickly...I am sorry mom…” The crinkling sound of Kamon’s small hands gripping the plastic grocery bag in his hand, were painfully loud in the still air. The 10-year-old was getting anxious, the tears pooling in his eyes, and Type could barely think to form the proper response, his words arriving into the atmosphere well before his mind could consider their tone and impact. 

“Do you have any idea how worried your father and I were! It is too dangerous for you and Pensri to go to the park by yourself! What would we do if something happened to you!” Type shouted, his fingers unconsciously squeezing Kamon’s shoulders tighter. 

“O-Ow...M-Mama...it hurts---” Kamon’s shoulders flinched as he tried to pull away from the grip. 

Tharn swallowed, completely understanding Type’s concern and worry, although he could not have predicted that those emotions would manifest into this. Watching his son’s eye twitch, blinking away the tears quickly, Tharn realized then that Type was not himself, nor was he the mother that his boys knew to be. Before Type could plant a seed of bad imagery in Kamon’s young mind, Tharn called out to his wife. 

“Type! Enough.” As if he was being ripped back into his senses, Type let go of Kamon’s shoulders glaring at Tharn and standing up, huffing. The look he wore was not one of shock or regret. More so the kind of look that everyone at their old university thought meant Type was about to blow a gasket. Tharn of course, after 3 years of dating and going on 11 years of marriage, knew better. Type was now at a moment in which his frustration was going to speak before his sensible mind could influence his words. Within the following seconds of his death glare, Tharn got a bitter taste of mindless Type. 

“I can’t even look at him! You deal with it!” Type hissed under his breath just loud enough for Tharn to hear and with enough venom that Kamon remained frozen in his spot, shaking. Type turned on his heels, grabbed his phone and locked himself in the bathroom. All Tharn could do was stare at what seemed to be the trail of heat that Type left in the space behind him. Quite literally after the bathroom door had shut, the air became heavy on Tharn’s shoulders, leaving the ex-drummer to shift his body weight uncomfortably from where he’d been standing still. 

Kamon on the other hand would tell anyone that in the moments after his mother closed the bathroom door, the weight of the air built in his chest, making it hard to breath. Kamon looked between the bathroom door, and his father, feeling his lip quiver. Fighting the urge to cry, Kamon sharply turned his head away towards Tharn and Type’s bed area. The ten-year-old stared at a painting of a jasmine bush in full flowered bloom, on the table next to his mother’s side of the bed. Kamon did anything he could to distract himself from the feeling of shame in his fingertips, he even began to count each painted contrasted petal on the dark canvas. This tactic worked for all of 40 seconds, before Kamon’s mind flooded with the memory of why he and papa gave Type that painting. 

In Thailand, jasmine flowers represented motherhood. 

“M-Mama, hates me now...right Papa?” Kamon whispered, his hands finding his eyes in tight fists, trying to harshly wipe away the tears that fell with fury. Just the thought of his mother hating him made Kamon’s shoulders shake. Kamon couldnt even begin to fathom a life without his mother. What would life be like with a lack of his mother? 

Kamon didn't want to think about losing all his favorite things, he simply wasn't ready! He didn’t want his mother to stop writing notes on the napkin that wrapped his bento box for school. He didn't want his mother not to come to his soccer games...He wasn’t ready for his mother to stop whispering ‘I love you’ in a hushed breath when he hugged him close, leaving a kiss on his cheek every single night before bed. 

No, Kamon needed his mother desperately. He couldn’t bear the thought of Type’s anger severing their relationship. All because of a stupid playground too! 

At the sound of his son’s cries, Tharn’s head snapped in his direction and walked to him. At this point Kamon was shaking, no doubt about it now, the little boy biting his lip as he wiped his face.

Only when he stood in front of his son, did Tharn realize that his son’s height barely reached his waist. Combined with the choked tears, Tharn couldn't help but see his son as if he was four years old all over again. With one smooth action, Tharn crouched down in front of Kamon, allowing his long arms to stretch underneath his eldest son’s, pulling him close. Kamon practically folded over his father’s shoulder, Tharn in turn wobbling a bit on his toes, before reaching down to guide the rest of his body to the floor, Kamon never leaving his tight embrace. 

As if he was still aware of his job as an older brother, Kamon was careful not to cause too much noise disturbance and wake his little brothers. Tharn felt the tension and resistance of his son still against his shoulder, even rubbing his back firmly didn't seem to make the situation better. Only when Tharn pressed his lips to Kamon’s temple, one of his hands firm against the thick black hair of Kamon’s head, did the 4th grader finally weaken his reservedness, with a shutter, he became like a collapsing mountain in Tharn’s arms. 

Kamon’s father kept his son close, the elder’s lips whispering words against his son’s soft pale skin, in the most sincere way trying to force the words of reassurance under Kamon’s skin. 

“No, baby...Mama doesn’t hate you…” Tharn breathed, uttering those words as painful as they were, was simple, like taking his next breath. 

“Mama was very scared, that’s why…Oh, my little Keiyw…” Tharn pulled away to meet his son’s glassy gaze from where he sat in his lap. Tharn took that moment to wipe away Kamon’s tears with the soft fabric of his pajama shirt. The boy in the grey raincoat listened carefully to his father’s voice. 

“You and your brother’s are the light of mine and mama’s life. We never want to think about what life would be like without any of you. Thinking about those kinds of things scares your mama and I so much that we do everything we can to protect you and your brothers. How can we protect you if we don’t know where you are sweetheart?” Tharn cooed over his son’s puffy eyes. 

“B-But, I-I will always come home!” Kamon sobbed. If it was even possible Tharn pulled his son closer to his chest and kissed underneath his eyes. 

“I know you will...But sometimes, there are people that don’t want you too, it’s mine and mama’s job to make sure you always come home. Soon enough when you're older, you will understand, I promise. But for right now, you stay right here always. Right on my heart…” Tharn whispered. 

In the bathroom, Type was trying to make sense of everything. He was so incredibly frustrated with the whole situation, but more so, he was frustrated with himself. To an extent, yes, Kamon knew better than to disobey his parents. But Type also knew that his son wasn’t capable of understanding why coming home when he was supposed to was so incredibly important. After all he was only 2 months old when the incident happened...How could he possibly understand? At this realization, Type stood up from where he sat on the edge of the bathtub and made his way out of the bathroom. Seeing his husband sitting on the tile floor with his son wrapped in his arms, broke his heart. 

“T-Tharn...T-Tharn...give him to me.” Tharn looked up from his son’s swollen face to see Type, his face relaxed and in a way defeated. Kamon had his arms wrapped around Tharn’s neck like a steel chain unwilling to break. Type came down to the floor finally, sliding close to Tharn and bringing his hand to cup Kamon’s cheek. 

“Kamon...come to mama.” Kamon turned his head towards his mother and reached out, Type taking him into his arms and standing up, his son much too old to be carrying, attached to him like a koala bear. Type naturally felt peace holding on to him, his hand rubbing his back and cooing at him. 

“Mama didn't mean it...I’m so sorry Kamon. Mama didn’t mean it.” Type whispered, turning his head into his son’s cheek and kissed him, sitting down with him on the couch. “I love you so much Kamon...Don’t ever forget that. No matter what you do, where you will go, I will always love you.” 

“I-I’m sorry mama!” Kamon couldn't catch his breath and Type only hugged him tighter.

“Shh..It’s okay monkey,” Kamon’s nickname slipped from Type mouth, the latter looking up at his husband now standing next to him. Tharn’s eyes spoke the words that Type already knew were coming. It was time to tell Kamon. 

“Kamon, sweetheart, look at me.” The ten year old pulled away from the comfort of his mother’s shoulder and sniffled, once more wiping his face with the sleeve of his grey raincoat. Type had always been impressed the more he watched Kamon grow, the boy was always much older than what his body would tell the world. He was the best big brother and very responsible, he was always spoken to like an adult because he could handle it. Type knew this, would he admit it to the ten-year-old? Probably not. 

But Type remembers what was happening in his life when he was ten-years-old, how his own incident had caused him to rely on his parents. For months maybe even years after what had happened when he was a child, Type barely left the house. Maybe it was because of the media, constantly hounding his family to meet him, or the fear that the man would come back to hurt him again. Whatever it was Type knew that at ten-years-old, he was nothing like his son. Kamon although always a mama’s boy was in fact very aware that he needed to be a role model for his younger brothers, and would never admit to wanting more one on one time with Type. So in the rare moment that his first born was becoming vulnerable, Type held him tightly, smiling at his little boy. 

“Papa told you that it is mine and his job to protect you, always right?” Kamon nodded and Type’s voice began to hitch over his words. “I always want to know where you are, because one day, when you were a baby, you were taken from me and papa…” Type swallowed heavily trying to steady the words coming out of his mouth. “We didn’t know where you were, or if you were okay because someone very bad took you away and we were so s-scared. Mama thought he would never see you again...my precious boy.” Type smiled weakly, running his fingers through the side of Kamon’s hair. 

“W-Will they take me away again?!” Kamon steadily looked at Type, even though his words sounded panicked. 

“No..No baby, that man is gone and he’s never coming back…” Speaking those words into the air was like Type was reassuring not only his son, but himself. It’s true, Lhong was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Maybe now Type could begin to accept what was so hard to do before.

“Your uncle San, uncle Tum, and papa..they found you and brought you back home. But do you understand why we always want to know where you are? Your papa is right...How can we protect you if we don’t know where you are…” Tharn smiled, finally sitting down next to Type and looking at their son, who seemed to take in all of Type words well. Kamon looks between his father and mother, both his parents giving him all the time he needed to respond. Tharn and Type were always patient with their children, they made sure to give them the time they needed in everything. It allowed their children not to feel pressured. When Kamon responded however, it was not what his parents were expecting. 

“The man who took me… I think he was really sad…” Kamon gently began, Types grip loosened on his son’s waist, as his gaze widened. Tharn reached out and touched his son’s arm. 

“Why do you say that sweetheart?” Tharn held his gaze even as his son stared down at his fingers. 

“Maybe he wanted a baby too… Maybe he couldn't have a baby…” 

“But that doesn't mean he gets to take mine!” Type hissed under his breath and Tharn looked in Type’s direction. Tharn sighed and pulled Kamon into his lap. 

“You are nobody’s but ours. You were made because your mama and I love each other so very much. We named you Kamon because we wanted everyone in the world, to know that you are who you are because you were born from love.” Tharn smiled, kissing his son's cheek and standing up with him in his arms. 

“Now...my love, no more questions, it’s time for bed” Kamon’s mother whispered, kissing the sprawling bangs of his son. 

Watching how Kamon nestled his cheek into the crook of Tharn’s neck, Type smiled lightly and reached out to take Kamon’s raincoat off his back in one fluid motion. Moving the fabric between his fingers, Type did not allow the puddle of water on the floor bother him, nor the plastic bag, not even Kamon’s yellow rain boots that had fallen on the floor from Tharn carrying him. Being a parent was messy, and being a mother was enough to give anyone a headache. But Type wouldn't have it any other way. 

In the short distance from getting up from the living room couch, walking around Niran’s crib, and sitting on the edge of the large king sized bed. Kamon’s eyes were fighting a losing battle to stay awake. By the time Tharn had transferred his son onto the bed Kamon was practically asleep. Against Type’s better judgement, he didn't want Kamon to catch a chill from the damp clothes he’d been wearing. Although Tharn certainly wasn't going to fight this, he will always be able to admit how impressive it was seeing how Type managed to keep Kamon sleeping even though he changed his clothes. 

Having the ten-year-old sleep with his parents was highly uncommon, usually Earth creeped in between the sheets in the middle of the night. However, the events of the night were also uncommon and on this night when finally the house felt calm, quiet and at ease...Tharn happily cradled his wife and son in his arms, dreaming away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments pls? 😍


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